


Alcubierre Drive

by DoeAndOtter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha Males, Angst, BAMF Hermione Granger, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Character Death, Death Eaters, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Older Woman/Younger Man, Romance, Sexual Violence, Smut, Soul Bond, Time Travel Fix-It, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:13:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoeAndOtter/pseuds/DoeAndOtter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'In all our wrongs, I want to write to him, in a time where I can find him. Before the tears that tore us; When our history was before us' Lang Leav</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the other characters and the plots. the rest belong to JK Rowling.**

**A/N: Bit of time travel with a twist, I've read a lot where Hermione goes back to the Marauders era I thought id make Hermione go back to when harry is at school. it also makes the pairing less of a squick in some ways as Hermione is 36. rather than a child not to mention she will have been through a long war. she will be somewhat OOC. as many of the characters would be during war. try and remember she has been fighting since she was a young child, she is a child solider. what Hermione is like in the books is from a child's prospective. Hermione is no longer a child. she is certainly no Mary Sue, thank god. but she will be powerful and not as light and fluffy. perfect for Snape.**

**my spelling an punctuation is not the best I know that, if anyone wants to beta let me know!**

* * *

**Prologue:**

**Unknown/Unplottable Location: 11th May 2016**

Hermione was panicking, the sort of blind panic that seemed to engulfed the very soul, the sort of panic that made your heartbeat irregular and your breath to heave in your lungs until all you wanted to do was lie down in a foetal position and hide. Or preferably die. she was just so tired, so exhausted of fighting this war, she felt old, old before her time. She was thirty six years old, still fighting this blasted war that seemed no closer to being over. She had been fighting the same war, what felt like her whole life. She hadn't stopped, she hadn't rested. Voldemort was still very much in power, their numbers steadily gaining whilst hers steadily dropped like flies.

She wanted to give up, she wanted to lay down and just surrender, her metaphorical white flag rapidly swinging in her hands. But one thing that every one knew about Hermione Granger, was that she didn't quit, she never backed down. And she would continue to fight for freedom and salvation. _The down trodden_. It was her calling in life, this was what she knew she was meant to do. that didn't stop her regretting it, didn't stop her wanting a different life. But she knew deep down it was a pointless wish. Pigs would fly before she could meet the elysian fields. It seemed the gods, fickle as they where had other plans for her.

she looked down at her hands which where shaking uncontrollably, scared and callused. warrior hands her friends had told her. She preferred the hands of death, for she had seen and committed so many unspeakable acts with these very hands, the hands which where now covered in blood, the steady dripping plopped against the cobblestones. Seemingly in time to her heart beat. She couldn't remember whose blood it was, their was just so much. _To much_.

Hermione tried to focus on pushing all emotion from her thoughts, pushing them down where they belonged. it wouldn't do for her to be seen outside the safety parameter of the safe house. She raised her Occulamancy shields, thanking Draco quietly for showing her. It wasn't easy after all she was a naturally a emotional person. thankful that her emotional mask was down, she could prioritise her emotional capacity once more, she knew it would, it always worked now without fail. she was glad she had it to keep her safe until she reached the safe house and thus she could break down. Sweat was steadily dripping down her forehead, she could feel it dripping down her nose, she wiped it absentmindedly, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

The fear was tangible now, suffocating her, she could almost taste it on her tongue, it seemed no mind shields would prevent this, this day. she quickened her legs in a haste to reach the safe house. Although how long it would be safe was perhaps questionable.

She bit back a sob as she entered the tree line, the rickety house was in view. It looked old and decimated, not habitual at all as it should be, no one would suspect that it was the orders, _the last of the order._ Well she was the last left now, her team perished. It had been the last bid for survival. The one last chance to fight for freedom. And she had failed. She had failed them all. Looking back on it now, she wondered if her team even knew it was set for failure, they still blindly followed her, they had said they would follow her in death and how right they had been.

If she listened closely she could almost hear her compatriots scathing remarks at her self flagellation, her sobs finally unleashed like a maelstrom. She tried to push the emotions back down behind her shields as she clutched at her chest. _It felt like it was breaking_.

The door was in view now, she just had to hold on until she had lowered the wards and entered. The wooden non-descript door groaned as she entered, slamming behind her, the wards rising themselves after licking against her magic to check she was okay to remain. The wards where a invention of hers and Draco's, they detected familiar magic. Something no one can reproduce, and for the that she was thankful. It had saved so many lives that would have otherwise been lost.

She took a deep breath, leaning absently against the door, she closed her eyes and took a steading breath, the familiar scents invaded her nose, Draco's peppermint scent, Ron's freshly mowed grass scent, and the others all swirling around. If she concentrated hard enough she could almost feel them like they where there, tangible.

_"Oi Granger sort yourself out. Your bleeding Gryffindor heart is practically dripping all over the floor" his smirk was firmly in place, you had to look carefully to see the warmth radiating in his eyes. Draco was not one to wear his emotions on his sleeve as it where._

_"Yeah Mione... its not your fault love" his goofy grin was lopsided, as he went to slug a arm around her shoulder. Ron was always so cheerful, a ready smile always there to lift her spirits._

Hermione slammed her eyes open. Her breath leaving her in a whoosh, for a moment she almost forgot. For a moment they had seemed real. Her hands shakily pushed against the door as she made her way towards the kitchen, she noticed the cups from earlier where still their on the counter, dregs of tea still swimming in the bottom, cold, _cold just like them_. She stifled her sob, collapsing into a nearby chair and laid her head down.

she would just rest, just for a minute. Her hand went into her robe pocket as she went to finger her wand, knowing the familiar thrum would comfort her, her wand like many of her team had become a life line. something that was never far from reach, she almost scolded herself that it wasn't in her hand to begin with. Such sloppy behaviour would surly get her killed. As she reached around to grip her wand she suddenly felt something else, it was round, with a raised edge. She traced the letter M and froze, pulling it out of her robe quickly.

It was the Malfoy patriarchal ring, the stately M glinted in the dimming lights, she fingered in reverently feeling the familiar thrum of the Malfoy line of magic. She felt the need to put it on her finger it was instinctual, like it knew where it belonged, Hermione usually would question such a thing, after all she was a Muggleborn, and the resident know-it-all. But she wanted to be close to Draco, her brother, her best friend, and his magic was calling to her. it was a beautiful melody. and she was caught in its spell, she needed this familiar sense of belonging now that all was lost.

As she slipped the ring on to her ring finger, she felt a pull at her naval, she stared wide eyes in a panic, as the familiar feeling of a port key but more intense took hold, she felt herself splitting into particles as she blew across the room, and then just like the eye of the storm. It came to a stop and she knew no more. She felt no more. It was bliss. _It was peace._


	2. Chapter One

Hermione wasn't sure what was happening, but whatever it was she very much preferred it to where she had been, she couldn't describe the particular feeling that was caressing over body at the moment, all she could say was it was warm, comforting and decidedly not a war zone. And that in its self was a miracle. Hermione wasn't one for believing in such things. But surly this contentment meant that it was all over. She felt beseechingly nothing, no pain, no senses other than the general feeling of rightness. She knew she could quiet happily stay like this for the rest of her blessedly short life.

She opened her eyes and saw vast blackness, she wondered absently if this was a bad thing, but decided that surly it couldn't be bad if that was what fate had planned. Although the fates where decidedly fickle at best, they usually weren't wrong with their decided judgement. No Hermione was quiet content. Maybe this is how Sirius felt behind the veil. She hoped so for his life was rather unpleasant, although she didn't meet eye to eye with the Animagus, she didn't wish for his suffering. It wasn't after all in her nature to wish such on decidedly good people, although she used the term loosely as he wasn't the nicest of people in his youth, this she knew from Snape's memories that Harry had shared before he died. Through those she saw things she wished she could un-see. The cruelty of children never failed to outstand her, after all she knew first hand.

She realised with a jolt that she was floating in this vast nothingness. The lightness she felt was similar to being in water, she briefly remembered summers at her parents holiday homes, floating in the pool, yes she could recall the cool crispness of the water, the glacial blue of the water as the sun reflected of on the surface like tiny liquid diamonds. She waited for the familiar pang of sadness to come, that often came when she thought of her deceased parents, but nothing came, curious, curious indeed.

Hermione kept on drifting for what felt like hours, but perhaps it had only been minutes. She was unsure of time, it didn't seem to exist in this place. She started to feel tingly, blood started to seemingly start to thrum through her veins, rushing to do its job of sustaining her life. Her ears popped, and her nose seem to flair into working as she took in the scents, she smelt what smelt like beef, the smell of different people, it was decidedly chaotic after being without the sense of taste and smell for some time. Her brain was sending rapid signals to her body seemingly all at once, her body jolted spasmodically. The familiar pain started to come back, her brain started to remember events seemingly like a old muggle cinema reel. Flashes of people and places, death and destruction.

She felt another pull at the lower part of her stomach, now recognising the feeling as akin to port keying her brain prepared for the eventuality of movement she felt the pull become stronger, and with a resounding crack she fell into something hard. She snapped her eyes open, the light blinded her as she groaned closing her eyes, she raised her hand to ward of the glare, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the seemingly bright surroundings. She realised with a sudden jolt as her eyes adjusted that she was in Hogwarts, she froze in place not daring to move. She was in the library, her favourite place to be when she had been a student.

She didn't understand how she was here, or rather how it still even existed, maybe she had had a break down she thought to herself, maybe the stress had finally gotten to her, no one could exactly blame her. Not that their was anyone who actually decidedly cared left alive. She heard a muffle and the sound of shuffling papers, a cough sounded from another corner. She lifted her self up, leaning against a table for support from the corner she had roughly landed on.

She walked around the corner carefully and silently, her feet gliding across the floor with familiar ease of being stealthy from years of trying not to be detected, in less than Stella situations. She glanced up and she rounded the corner, her back pressed against a book case, she reached absently for the familiar length of her wand and sighed in relief at the familiar thrum of magic.

The familiar sight of Madam Pince almost vulture like looks was almost enough to make her shout out in shock, she hadn't seen this woman since nineteen nighty-nine at the fames battle of Hogwarts. The battle where everything had been lost. She had lost her life thankfully quickly without suffering. A simple killing spell, for that she couldn't help but be thankful, although the woman was known for being stern and strict. She had always held a special fondness for Hermione, she wondered if it was due to the mutual love of books. Oh how she had missed the familiar smell of old leather and crisp pages of paper. The old musty smell that seemed to linger in the very walls. Hermione decided that this must be heaven, to be reunited with her beloved school and books once more. She felt warmth rush through her heart just thinking about sitting down and cracking open one of the tombs, a small smile started to creep across her face before she could catch it.

She walked forward in what felt like a daze, her footsteps slightly unsteady now with the shock. She noticed the disgruntled librarian look up at the sounds of footsteps, the women's eyes seemed to widen before she seemed to suddenly change, her eyes narrowed shrewdly and her wand seemed to appear out of nowhere, Hermione having had years of practice on the battle field was quicker, she realised that this woman must be some sort of imposter, or worse some mirage. For she had never raised a wand to her before. She thrust her wand at her throat assessing the situation silently but quickly. She heard a shocked gasp and swung her head around, and saw to her shock, her grip loosening, that it was a boy, a young boy in a Hogwarts uniform. She hadn't seen one in many years. She swung back around and finally took notice of the librarians features. The librarian looked young, much younger than she could remember. But then again she had been looking through a child's eyes. And decidedly anyone over thirty looked old to a child.

She didn't know who seemed more at shock once we had both decidedly took our fill in of the other persons appearance. Hermione couldn't get her mouth to work, she realised that maybe she was in shock, she couldn't get her limbs to move let alone anything else. She closed her eyes and then reopened and realised that she was really there, it want some mirage or trick. She turned back to the boy, and yes he was still there to. How was this even possible? Was this some sort of place in-between life and death? Some sort of stepping stone?

She dropped her arm, and waited for the librarians next move, she lifted her hands showing the universal sign for surrender. knowing that whatever this was she couldn't be seen as a threat if she was going to get answers. The woman apparently recognising her seemed to be in just as much shock, she was taking in Hermione's features, from her long brown curls, decidedly bushy in nature although not as bad as they had been in her youth, her upturned small nose with the freckles that she never grew out of. The only noticeable change was the small smattering of grey in her hair, and the lines around her eyes and mouth that decidedly shew her age.

"Miss Granger...Hermione is that... Is that you?" she whispered. Her eyes tracing the cultures of her face rapidly, she realised absently she must look a fright, fresh from a battle ground, covered in blood and other unspeakable things. If her magic wasn't so taxed she would perform a cleansing charm. But such things fall to the wayside in war, cleanliness is decidedly not as important in the grand scheme of things.

Hermione nodded finally finding her voice seemingly. "Its, its me Madam Pinse. where... I mean how did I get here... Is it... Is it finally over now... Am I finally dead?" She could hear the slight tremble in her voice, she didn't know whether it was in relief or despair. Once she started she couldn't seem to make herself stop asking questions. They tumbled from her mouth in a never ending stream of verbal barrage, that made even herself cringe. Their is something about being back at this school in front of the librarian that made her feel all of about fifteen again.

Madam Pince still looked in shock if her expression was anything to go by, she shook her head closing her eyes and in a mirror image of what Hermione had done only seconds earlier she re opened them and seemed to come to some sort of understanding, of what Hermione was unsure. But she very much wanted to know. Before she could open her mouth the librarian was moving towards the exit, she looked back perhaps realising I wasn't following and she huffed under her breath.

"Come along Miss Granger, lets go and see the Head Master, perhaps he can draw some light on this... situation" I raised my eyebrows at her choice of word for this 'situation', schooling my face I made a move to follow, but not before looking around the library once more, just encase she never laid eyes on it again, she caught the eyes of the young boy again, she noticed he had moved back to what he was doing, his eyes devouring a tomb opened at his desk. It seemed now that Madam Pince had allowed her passage, she must be safe. She had almost forgotten the naivety of youth. the innocence in their eyes.

As she followed along the once familiar walkways in the castle, she wondered what alternate universe she had landed in, if that is what had happened. She was starting to run out of ideas of the situation she had landed herself in. She was after all still quiet unsure that this wasn't real and not just some figment of her imagination she had thought up to keep her sane in her shock of loosing her most trusted allies and friends. After all its not like you can travel back in time... _No that's just preposterous._

Yet as she looked around she had to admit, at least to herself that her imagination was extremely good. The place looked like a exact replica of the once famous castle, so life like in fact she could almost believe she could feel the long lost sentinel magic of the place. She looked around at the portraits, noticing they were looking at her rather curiously, some even had the gall to follow frame to frame. Ah yes she remembered well how their was no privacy in Hogwarts. She wondered to herself whether Dumbledore would be here as well. After all it seemed like it was going to be some sort of death day party. Much like the one in first year with her house ghost St Nick. The fond memories made her smile.

Before long they reached the familiar corridor leading to the head masters office, as they where going down the winding, movable stair case she almost forgot what it felt like to take in the ambience that was Hogwarts, the trick stairs that you had to avoid less you become stuck. As they reached the familiar gargoyles that protected the head masters office. Hermione took a moment to steady her breathing and raise her occulamancy shields. If Hermione was correct in her musings and that Dumbledore was alive in this reality that she had found herself in, she knew she needed to protect her mind. he was a master at the mind arts, and she didn't want him peeking into her brain.

Madam Pince looked around as if making sure no eaves droppers were present before she whispered the password. 'Chocolate Frog' she rolled her eyes at the familiar sweet passwords. How the man assumed they would be safe to use she didn't know, after all everyone knew the man had a obsession with sweets, it wouldn't take a mind reader to deduce a password from the list of wizarding confectionary.

The Gargoyles seemed to assess both witches, their eyes narrowed in contemplation, they seem to deduce they were safe to entre, as they moved aside and the familiar winding stair case came into view. Hermione hadn't been to the head masters office regularly through her tenancy at Hogwarts that was more Harrys domain. but she still remembered it as if it where yesterday.

She followed the strict witch up the stairs, her hands skimming the familiar stone walls in her assent, she could feel the magic tingle against her fingers, both warm and friendly, as if Hogwarts itself was greeting her. She knew the castle was sentient, she had felt its pain when the head master died. And later it's rage and panic as it fell to the Death Eaters. So perhaps she wasn't far of the mark.

As they reached the doors Hermione gripped her wand tightly, even though she knew that what led behind the doors couldn't be bad, it was a habit she couldn't shake. She remembered her lessons of 'constant vigilance'. Moody may have been a paranoid, pretentious man, but he knew the battle field. It was ingrained in his very bones. Much like it now was in hers.

Madam Pince opened the door, it groaned as if not pleased to be disturbed. The familiar silver trinkets whirled in a steady hum around the ornate desk, Hermione looked up into the age old blue eyes of Dumbledore and felt her breath leave in a whoosh, Fawkes his dedicated, stalwart familiar rested upon his shoulder as he absentmindedly ran one long gnarled finger down his chest.

She didn't know how she would react upon seeing the old wizard again, a range of emotions came to the for front of her mind, a odd eclectic mix. Their was sadness yes, but also great anger for using Harry as a sacrificial lamb for the 'greater good'. It certainly hadn't been for the greater good in the end. She simultaneously wanted to hug him like a child greeting a old friend and kill him like a enemy on the battle field. It was decidedly odd being at war with ones own self.

"Miss Granger, tell me... Do you know the date?" The question seemed innocent enough, but there was a slight tone to his voice, his eyes lost the sparkle upon seeing her. She schooled her features, her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the seemingly benign man. _She was no fool_.

"Two thousand and sixteen, sir" she replied, keeping her voice steady. She noticed the slight change in his demeanour at this news, his eyes widened and his hand started to shake. She looked at it through her preferential vision noting that it was blackened much like it had been before he died. She started to get a bad feeling about this situation. he swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbed as his eyes started darting from hers to her hand where she knew Draco's ring was, she didn't move to hide it, that would show it was worth taking note of, and she didn't want to raise suspicion.

"It's not two thousand and sixteen my dear girl" she noticed he was steadying his hand on his desk, Fawkes trilled, seemingly in a panic. "Its Nineteen, nighty-Six" he seemed to stutter at that, something Hermione had never heard before. She felt her blood rushing through her ears, the room seemed to tilt on its axis, she heard a muffled shout and then knew no more.


	3. Chapter Two

Hermione was fairly sure she had cracked her head open, it felt like someone had took her head and forced it through a meat grinder, _of course_ Hermione thought to herself it could always be that someone had actually hit her upside the head. Wouldn't be the first time after all. _I'm getting too old for this_ she thought briefly. Would there ever be a end? A end to this vicious cycle, this cycle of pain and hatred. Hermione didn't think so. She longed to just rest, just stop and let the never ending darkness take her away. Her loved ones where there she knew along with her younger and carefree self. The girl that had endless amounts of hope, hope and innocence. It was a pointless dream, even she knew that.

War had a way of changing people, it brought about the very best and the very worst of the human psyche. She had seen the weak become bold and the bold become weak. She had seen tears and laughter. Gut wrenching sorrow and people finding their faith amongst the darkness. Hermione was a pessimistic person, she knew there was no god, not on this plain.

Not in this lifetime.

She had looked upon the devil, his merciless smile painted red.

Hermione felt her limbs spasmodically shift, an acute ache that seemed to shroud her whole body, she thought to open her eyes, but alas they were heavy and weighed down. _It would be so easy to just give up_ she thought for not the first time. But something in the back of her subconscious told her she needed to wake up, she needed to move. _Something important needed to be done_. Something that would change things. What they where she had no idea. But it was thrumming through her innate magic. Powerful and old, it felt almost tangible on the surface she could almost reach out and touch it.

Her eyelids fluttered, the pain reflecting back into her eye socket, she winced and tried again, the lights were bright and her pupils constricted painfully as they tried to adjust. Closing her eyes briefly she took in the sounds and smells. The sheets were stiff and crisp under her body, a bed? She wondered where she could be, calming herself and her breathing, Hermione inhaled and smelt the familiar smell of herbs, healing potions and…. Hogwarts?

Her eyes flew open as the memories bombarded her;

the battle,

losing,

ring,

Hogwarts,

nineteen-ninety six…. Shit! She sat up, groaning at the sudden shift in her muscles, her head swam, her heart fluttering in panic, she was either very much dead, or somehow, which Hermione knew was obserred, she had to have travelled in time.

Hermione knew from her use of the time-turner in her third year that no such device worked in that way. A few hours at most but years? No…. Hermione was sure that it wasn't possible. Maybe she had hit her head during the battle. Maybe this was some psychosis left behind due to her grief, her grief over losing Ron and Draco.

Even as these thoughts raced through Hermione's mind, she knew she was wrong. A little voice in her head whispered that **_anything can happen, it's magic after all._ ** And when it came to magic, if Hermione had learnt anything at all it was that anything goes, anything can happen.

She felt a twinge in her chest, a panic that seemed at odds to her situation, it was almost like it did not belong to her. She hissed in a breath as a searing pain shot through her finger. The very same finger that Draco's ring sat, snug and glistening of the white wash walls of the infirmary.

She felt a rush of magic, steadily rising in pressure against her chest, it felt hot and electric, like a cold winter's day and she had just stepped into a hot bath. Tingles erupted throughout her body and she felt almost dizzy, she tried to regulate her breathing as she swung her legs over the other side of the cot, as soon as her foot connected to the cold floor, she felt the familiar pull of apparition, absently as she felt her skin pull apart she thought that this could get old very quickly.

* * *

Hermione landed in an undignified heap on a soft bed of grass, still damp from the morning hue. Using that as a rough mark of the time, knowing that it was early morning, she took a moment to steady her breathing, she moved her arms and legs to make sure everything was as it should, absently trailing her hands along her body, one couldn't be too careful when Port-keying or indeed Apparating that everything turned up in working order. She had seen far too many accidents from miss apparition. She shuddered at the visionary as she hauled herself up to take in the surroundings.

Hermione stayed as low as possible, an important rule of turning up in places you more than likely should not be at is to be alert, watch and don't, for the love of Merlin and Morgana be seen. For all Hermione knew she could have been Apparated straight to the enemy, she knew that at this point of time, if indeed she had been taken to the past, that this time was a pinnacle moment, the start of things to come.

With that in mind she knew she had to tread very carefully, the butterfly effect was very much a real thing, this she knew as much. If she was here to change something, she had to be careful exactly what it was and what would happen if she did. She knew that her first priority would be keeping Harry safe, of course it all came down to Harry, that was where it had gone wrong to start with.

She stifled a sob that threatened to erupt, her throat burned as it clogged, just the thought of seeing him again…... It would be of no use to anyone if she acted like a adolescent school girl, with that in mind, she raised her Occlumency shields, making sure her thoughts and emotions were gone which by now was second nature to her, she rose her head and took in the opulent manor in front of her. Of course she just had to be right, she couldn't have arrived at a more dangerous place than Malfoy Manor, but she was obviously here for a reason. The vast array of wards she could feel rippling around the surrounding fields had allowed her to pass through unharmed. That had to be something right?

Hermione was not a superstitious person, she didn't believe in fate, she didn't believe in all that rubbish about the 'inner eye' but this felt right, like she was home after a long day, a feeling of peace and contentment surrounded her, the land almost seemed to purr and sigh in relief of her presence. She knew however to make sure she did not become complacent. She sighed as she carried on walking towards the entrance, she brushed past, what seemed like hundreds of roses of every colour imaginable, it smelt heavenly and she could just picture summers here, although the rose garden was froze as perpetual summer, the rest was dusted in a fine sheet of frost, the trees barren and gloomy.

Hermione shook her head, she knew this could all be a trap to lure her in. She knew Draco well, she knew Lucius well. But that was in her time line, when they were all much older, after years of developed friendship. This…. This was different and she couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Was the dark lord already here?

Had Draco been marked yet? She knew that it would happen this summer.

She knew the dark lord would take up residence and she knew Draco would be marked, just as she knew that Draco's mother would die. All in the span of six weeks, maybe that's why she is here, maybe this is her job. She snorted to herself as her inner voice whispered about fate, and second chances, the manor seemed to suck her towards it, as if it was in agreement, the sentient magic almost seemed to reach out towards her and caressed her, _it seemed happy_. As if this was where she was meant to be. She reached out towards the door and felt a thrum of magic against her palm. It was welcoming her, calling to her. She hadn't even realised she had opened the door before she heard a high pitched scream;

a scream that sent shudders through her body.

A scream that seemed to reach into her very soul.

She felt the call in her magic, her family was in danger that much she knew, her blood seemed to pound in her ears as she tried to pinpoint the location, she tried to slow down her breathing to concentrate on her Animagus form, she would be of no use if she went charging in and getting herself killed on sight. No she needed to be unobtrusive. A family pet almost, with that in mind she tried to block out the screams which seemed to be getting louder, curdling as if choking upon blood. Hermione didn't need to see to know that she was dying, a voice in her subconscious told her that it was important **_she prevented this death, that this person was important to ending the war._**

The tingles started low in her feet, she could feel it spread up her legs to her stomach, it tingled in her breasts before she fell to four legs, her tail raised upright as she pulled her teeth back, letting a vicious snarl curl her lips. In this form she could almost taste the blood on her tongue. She let the animal loose, and pushed her human self behind the barriers of her mind, she felt her fur standing on end, drool dripping from her elongated teeth as she leapt forward on a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house.

She felt the fury, as she realised her pack were being threatened, she felt the need for blood, a wash of red entered her vision, it clouded her senses in a wash of pure anger.

Hermione entered the drawing room, belly low to the ground and she absently took in the shades of people;

_wands,_

_Destruction,_

_the smell of magic and intent….._

She leapt and snarled, tasting blood and flesh, cords of intestines wrapping around her paws as she dug into fleshy stomachs.

Bones crunched as she pulled and tore with her sharp teeth, she felt victorious, she was protecting what was hers. They were hers and not to be touched by these humans.

The world seemed to stop as she took in the chaos, she felt immense satisfaction as she licked at her paws and cleaned her muzzle. Hermione trotted towards the slumped figure of a woman, her long blond hair matted in blood, her eyes wide in horror and pain. Hermione knew she had to push herself to the fore front of her mind, she needed to shift back and treat Madam Malfoy before she died. She closed her eyes and focussed the tingles spreading much quicker, she panted feeling the adrenaline rushing through her body.

Crouching in front of the woman she absently wiped her mouth where she knew blood was dripping steadily. She knew she must look a fright. There was no recognition in Madam Malfoy's eyes, this alone told her that she must be covered in blood. She looked down quickly noting what looked like a piece of skull attached to her top, she flicked it and raised her eyes to Madam Malfoy again, raising her arms to show she meant no harm.

"I mean you no harm Madam Malfoy, I need to heal you…" she cut me off with a shaking whisper, "wh...who are you?" Hermione smiled grimly, unsure if it would indeed be a good idea to tell the woman, taking in her injuries, the spasms in her arms and legs, Hermione knew that she would survive, Hermione was very familiar with the Cruciatus curse, but she knew that Madam Malfoy would only truly be okay with the correct potions, Hermione took in a deep breath, she knew she needed to remain calm, reflecting on what she done she realised that coming swooping in as a gigantic cat and killing several men probably wasn't a good motivator for trust. But she need Madam Malfoy to trust her to heal her…..

"My name is Hermione, Hermione Granger…." the look of recognition immediately came across her face, her eyes absently flicked down towards Hermione's hands, Madam Malfoy's eyes widened, before she schooled her emotions to that of a blank face.

Hermione heard a gasp coming from the left, she swung around quickly shielding Madam Malfoy with my body, her wand held steady in her hand as she caught the latch on her holder. She pulled up a sneer on her face, before she took in the intruder.

She felt her blood run cold, her breath left her in a whoosh. She had been so focussed on protecting Madam Malfoy that she hadn't noticed that others were even in the room, indeed Hermione hadn't even heard their voices, she could almost hear Mad-Eye shouting constant vigilance'.

Sitting against the wall chained, where faces that Hermione hadn't seen in years, _since she was a girl infact_. And the one who brought her to her knees was a face that she hadn't seen in a couple of days. Hermione felt overwhelming happiness at seeing him alive. She took in his to young face, the fear and worry etched in his very continence.

"Draco….."


End file.
